


Who Instructs the Instructor?

by shadowsapiens



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Academy Era, Denial of Feelings, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Training, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22218220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsapiens/pseuds/shadowsapiens
Summary: It's rough having a match-making busybody with no sense of boundaries literally living inside your head. Byleth does his best.
Relationships: Male Byleth & Sothis, Male Byleth/Felix Fraldarius
Comments: 10
Kudos: 82
Collections: Exchanges After Dark Birthday Bash 2020





	Who Instructs the Instructor?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pleurer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleurer/gifts).



> happy Birthday Bash, pleurer! i hope you enjoy this lovingly tailor-made gift. i slaved for weeks and weeks following your every desire, except for ignoring your wordcount DNW, requested themes, and the "during sex" part of the ship tag

Byleth signals for Felix to pause his routine. The training grounds are golden with dust clouds as he walks forward, eyes narrowed. He slides his hand over Felix’s, feeling his bones even through his gloves. He doesn’t wonder whether Felix’s skin is warm to the touch. That sort of thing doesn’t matter. Can’t matter.

“Rotate your grip like this through the thrust,” Byleth says, adjusting Felix’s hand on the hilt. “You’ll get more power that way, without losing accuracy.”

“Got it,” says Felix.

“Touch his butt,” says Sothis.

Byleth flinches and lets go as if burned. 

“Is something wrong, Professor?” Felix asks, turning around. His eyes are dark, and he’s still so _close_.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Byleth says. Professor, he reminds himself. They all call him professor. “Start over from the top.”

He steps back to watch Felix run through the routine, every movement fluid yet sharp. The way his shoulders flex under the Academy vest, the way his waist twists, the way—

“Oh, youth is wasted on the wrong people,” Sothis sighs inside his head. “Seriously, he wanted you to touch his butt.”

 _You say that about all the students,_ Byleth accuses.

Sothis laughs. “What’s wrong with that?” Then she hums a bit, which is one of the most annoying things she does in the depths of his mind, barely audible, utterly distracting. She murmurs, “He wants it the most, though,” just as Felix pauses again.

“Professor,” he says, bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat, chest heaving lightly. Byleth’s pretty sure he doesn’t usually leave that many buttons unbuttoned at his collar. “Could you show me that grip again?”

Byleth nods, blank-faced, and steps forward. Does his level best to ignore the way Felix leans into his arms, and the way Sothis won’t fucking shut up about it.


End file.
